


If Only in my Dreams

by The_Peverells



Series: All That Is Gold [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Christmas, F/M, Gen, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 20:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6166153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Peverells/pseuds/The_Peverells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not everybody made it home for Christmas the last year of the War.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Partridge in a Pear Tree

Harry wanted to go home. He wasn't even sure where home was, really – it definitely wasn't Privet Drive. Maybe it was Hogwarts, his first true home, or maybe the Burrow, where he knew (hoped) Ginny was. Even this dratted tent wouldn't be so bad if only _Ron_ were here.

He wanted Ron back. Ron would find some way of cheering Harry and Hermione up.

Or maybe not. Ron had been unusually moody ever since they had gotten that dratted locket. Harry needed to figure out a way to get rid of the locket, and _then_ get Ron back.

Harry wasn't sure he had ever been so lonely. Sure, Christmas at the Dursleys had never been happy, but he had usually gotten _some_ presents, even if they were awful.

At least the Dursleys acknowledged him. Here Hermione hadn't talked to him since she had gone into the tent hours ago.

Harry really missed Hedwig. She was just an owl, but anytime he was feeling lonely she would appear and stay with him until he felt better. But she was dead.

Harry even felt abandoned by his wand, which had broken last night – and his wand wasn't even a living being (although Harry firmly believed it had some sort of consciousness).

And Dumbledore.

Even the _thought_ of his name was enough to send a shiver of anger through Harry. He had trusted Dumbledore, but Dumbledore had never told him the whole truth. Dumbledore, who had helped _Grindelwald_ rise to power.

So Harry felt abandoned by everyone. Dumbledore was a liar, Ron had left, his wand was broken, Hedwig was dead, Sirius was dead, his parents were dead . . .

Thank Merlin for Hermione.

"Hermione?" Harry called quietly into the tent. It was almost midnight, and he wasn't sure if Hermione was sleeping.

Hermione's face appeared through the tent flap. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Well, _that_ was a lie. "It's just – if last night was Christmas Eve, that makes today . . ."

"Christmas," Hermione breathed, eyes widening.

Harry managed a grin. "Merry Christmas, Hermione."

Hermione burst into tears.

Startled, Harry got up, unsure what to do. "Er, Hermione?" He tentatively patted her on the back.

"I'm sorry!" she sobbed. "It's just . . . I wish . . ." She dissolved into tears again.

"Me too," Harry sighed, thinking about Ron and Dumbledore and Ginny. "This is the worst Christmas _ever_."

Hermione choked out a laugh. "I just want to go _home_."

"Me, too." He wasn't sure where home was, but he wanted to be there for Christmas.


	2. Two Turtle Doves

Ron had been torn. He had wanted to go home for Christmas, but the Burrow wasn't home anymore without Harry and Hermione.

He hadn't been able to sleep well, so when the sky started lightening in anticipation of dawn, Ron had given up and turned on the radio, hoping for some news of Harry and Hermione. But then he had heard Hermione's voice coming out of his Deluminator, and the light had appeared.

And he _knew_ , he knew without a doubt that the light would guide him to Harry and Hermione.

Ron quickly grabbed his things, stuffed them in his rucksack, and left a brief note telling Bill and Fleur that he was going to find Harry and Hermione. Then he dashed outside, happier than he had been in a long time.

Because even though he wasn't going to the Burrow, Ron was heading home for Christmas.


	3. Three French Hens

There were only two of them this year. Apolline's husband never celebrated Christmas, having had multiple bad experiences with it over the years, so Apolline, Gabrielle, and Fleur had always celebrated Christmas by themselves. They spent the entire day together, never really doing very Christmassy things, but enjoying themselves nonetheless.

This year, Fleur wasn't there. She hadn't been there last year, either, but that was because she was getting to know her fiancé's family before the wedding, and the Weasleys _did_ have big Christmas celebrations.

This year was different, though, because this year Fleur was right in the middle of a War, and Apolline couldn't help but be worried.

She could still remember her shock at the scars on Bill's face when she saw him before the wedding – scars he hadn't had when she had first met him. _That_ was when she had first started to understand what it meant that Fleur was fighting in a war.

It had fully sunk in just how much danger Fleur was in when her wedding was attacked – _her wedding was attacked_! Apolline had been born after Grindelwald, and hadn't ever lived in Britain, so she had no experience with war. But Fleur's new family clearly did, and Apolline knew that Fleur would soon, too, if she didn't already.

And Apolline was worried. Christmas didn't feel like Christmas with only her and Gabrielle. They needed Fleur to come home.


	4. Four Calling Birds

Christmas was almost over, but there were still four gifts under the tree.

Molly knew they wouldn't be opened today – maybe they wouldn't be opened _ever_ (Merlin forbid). But she couldn't help hoping, which is why she was sitting watching two separate clocks, waiting for the hands on one of them to turn to "traveling" before the hands on the other turned to midnight.

Realistically, even if they _were_ travelling, the hands would still point to "mortal peril," because that's all they _ever_ pointed to. In the first few months of the War, it was different, and the hands moved occasionally, although they usually pointed to "mortal peril." But now the hands _never_ moved.

Four Christmas jumpers waiting to be unwrapped. Five people had been missing from the festivities (which weren't very festive this year), but Molly had owled Charlie his gift.

She had owled Percy _his_ gift, too, but it had been returned unopened. Again. She wanted him _back_. She wanted him to come _home_. She didn't know what was stopping him. The only thing she could do was make sure he knew that he would always be welcomed back home. But he hadn't come home, except for that disastrous time last year, which even Molly suspected had been the Minister's idea, and not Percy's.

And she was more worried for him than she had ever been. They were in the middle of a war, and while Percy could find them if he wanted to _now_ , if anything went wrong and they were forced into hiding, Percy would be on his own. He would have nobody to turn to – he couldn't even turn to other members of the Order of the Phoenix, since he had left before it was formed and didn't know who was in it!

The other three jumpers were for Ron, Harry, and Hermione. She had hoped that they would take a risk and visit today, but she knew they wouldn't. They were too cautious, invested in making sure that You-Know-Who didn't know just how close they were to the Weasleys. And it had worked, so far. Arthur still had his job at the Ministry, Ginny hadn't been kidnapped off the Hogwarts Express like poor Luna, and they were all able to walk about freely – well, as freely as anybody walked these days.

But Molly wished they'd feed caution to the dragon and come get their gifts. It wasn't Christmas without them.

One of the clocks chimed – it was midnight. Christmas was over, and there were still four unwrapped gifts. Molly touched two of the hands on the other clock, tracing Percy and Ron's names, hoping they could tell she was thinking of them. She wished she could speak to them – she wanted to call them home.


	5. Five Golden Rings

Hermione had always loved _The Lord of the Rings_. The story of the fellowship trying to destroy the One Ring had caught hold of her, and she had reread the books every summer. She loved all the characters – Aragorn, who looked foul but felt fair; Faramir, who was always overshadowed by his brother, but who overcame the temptation his brother fell to; Éowyn, who killed the Witch-King that no man could kill.

But her favorite was Samwise Gamgee. Sam, who was only a gardener, but who was loyal and wise, and without whom Frodo would never have been able to destroy the Ring.

Lately, she had been thinking more and more of something Sam said when everything seemed to be going wrong: "It's like in the great stories . . . The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end . . . because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing . . . this shadow. Even darkness must pass."

Because Hermione could relate. She couldn't see how the world could be happy again. Harry was still unconscious from their little adventure last night (although thankfully he had briefly quieted down), and maybe _this_ would be the time he didn't wake up. Or maybe Harry would wake up and somehow manage to defeat You-Know-Who, but how many people would be dead? How much of the Wizarding World had been destroyed so badly that it could never be repaired? Even when (if) Hogwarts accepted Muggle-borns again, what about the ones who had already been killed? What about all the children who hadn't gotten their Hogwarts letters yet, who didn't even know magic was real, and who had been killed simply for existing? They were gone forever.

Just like Hermione's parents. Her parents, who had given her _The Lord of the Rings_ for her fifth birthday. As much as Hermione hoped that she would be able to bring them back someday, she was pretty sure that she wasn't going to survive this war. She was pretty sure Harry wasn't going to survive either – although she'd do her damn best to make sure he did.

And Ron. _Ron_. She loved him (Merlin knows why). _He_ might manage to survive, if he stayed away.

She didn't want him to stay away – and wasn't that the most _selfish_ thought she'd ever had?

She wanted him back, and she wanted her parents back. She wanted to _go home_.


	6. Six Geese a-Laying

Ginny put another egg in her basket, looking through the morning mist at the surrounding hills. She kept hoping to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione appearing on one of them, coming to the Burrow.

It was worse than usual today, because today was Christmas. Ginny tried to remain hopeful, _especially_ today, but it was hard. Luna was in the hands of the Death Eaters, Tom controlled the Ministry, Death Eaters controlled Hogwarts, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione hadn't been seen in months (which _was_ a good thing, because it meant Tom hadn't found them, but Ginny still wished she had _some_ news from them). This was shaping up to be the worst Christmas ever – and that included the Christmas her dad was in Saint Mungo's. At least then she had known he was going to survive, and she had her family and friends around her.

This year, she was missing two brothers (three if she counted Percy, which she didn't), since Ron was who-knows-where and Charlie was staying in Romania, her boyfriend (because whatever Harry might have said, and Ginny might have pretended in front of Death Eaters – he was still her boyfriend), and two of her best friends. Granted, today she would probably feel Hermione's absence more than Luna's, since Luna had never spent Christmas with her, but she was worried about both of them. Thank Merlin Neville was all right (as far as she knew).

And, although Ginny didn't want to think it: they would probably never have another family Christmas with everybody there. She wasn't stupid – she knew the chances of all of them surviving were miniscule, even if (when) Harry defeated Tom soon. And the longer this war dragged on, the more of them were going to die – _Merlin_ , Tom hadn't even had a body until _less than three years ago_ , and already Ginny had mourned the deaths of two people she knew well, experienced the Cruciatus Curse, and seen three of her brothers and her father permanently scarred. She had fought for her life twice – and it was only through luck (literally, in one case) that she had managed to survive. This war was only going to get worse, and Ginny knew they weren't all going to make it. It was a miracle that they had all survived this long.

Harry was the one she worried about the most. She _knew_ Tom, and there was _no way_ . . .

Except it _was_ possible for Harry to defeat Tom, she knew it. Harry didn't realize just how amazing he was, how full of love and compassion, and Tom didn't have either of those. Tom's followers only followed him because he was powerful – Harry's friends followed him because they loved him. And _that_ , Ginny believed (had to believe) would make all the difference.

Not to mention that Harry had already fought Tom and survived multiple times. Ginny knew (believed) that he could do it again. And next time, he would defeat Tom, and they could have a real Christmas again.

Only, the problem was – Ginny was going to fight alongside him (she was already fighting _for_ him with the DA) as soon as he came out into the open. And so was her entire family (except for Percy, who didn't count). And so were all of her friends. And they weren't all going to survive.

Ginny wished that she hadn't taken last year's Christmas for granted. Everyone was together and happy – even Percy had shown up (although Ginny could have done without him). But now it was too late, and Ginny knew that they were never going to have another Christmas like that. She didn't know who, but _someone_ would be dead. And while they might get over it, and have happy Christmas celebrations again – it was never going to be the same.

Wiping a tear from her eye, Ginny found the missing sixth egg hiding in the hay before glancing up to the horizon again, hoping for someone to show up – anyone. Everyone. She wanted them _all_ here, to celebrate this one last Christmas.

But the hills were empty. They weren't coming home for Christmas.


	7. Seven Swans a-Swimming

The Great Lake was empty and bleak-looking. _Hogwarts_ was empty and bleak looking. Nobody wanted to stay at the castle over the Christmas holidays. And Severus couldn't blame them.

Who would want to stay in prison if they could leave? Because that's what Hogwarts had become. There were more rules than ever before, and infractions were punished harshly (although Severus kept the students as safe as he could).

Since none of the students were staying, all the professors had left, too. Even Hagrid had gone somewhere – Severus didn't _want_ to know where. The Carrows had gone to some Christmas party, and Filch was probably celebrating all the newly acceptable harsh punishments he had given during term in a seedy pub somewhere.

It was just Severus and the ghosts at Hogwarts.

And most of the ghosts had left for their own Christmas parties, anyway.

Severus had nowhere to go this Christmas. It was nothing new, considering his first friend was dead, he was betraying most of the rest of his friends, and his few other friends _thought_ he had betrayed them.

Hogwarts was more gloomy than Severus had ever seen it. He used to feel at home here, but no longer. He hadn't felt at home here since _that_ fight.

Home was wherever _she_ was, but she was dead.

He wanted to go home.


	8. Eight Maids a-Milking

Luna stopped talking when Ollivander fell asleep. She had been explaining how it was likely that Crumple-Horned Snorkack milk would increase people's ability to sing rock 'n roll.

But Luna didn't feel like talking anymore. She tried to be cheerful for Ollivander, but it was difficult. She hadn't seen the sky for such a long time. She didn't even know how long she had been in this cellar, which normally wouldn't bother her, because what mattered was how long it _felt_ , not how long it _actually_ was. But she had been looking forward to Christmas – she _always_ looked forward to Christmas. She tried not to have a favorite day of the year, because _every_ day was a good day. But she had to admit that she _especially_ liked Christmas day. Everybody was happy on Christmas, and Luna was happy when other people were happy.

Luna's least favorite day was the day her mummy died. She knew it wasn't the _day's_ fault, but she couldn't help disliking it anyway.

It would be good to have a Wrackspurt siphon to clear out her mind. She was thinking such _nonsensical_ thoughts!

Luna shivered. She was pretty sure a Dementor had just passed by the cellar. They always made her think of her mummy. She didn't have a wand, but she tried to overcome the depression the Dementor caused by thinking happy thoughts.

She remembered how she and her daddy would always decorate the entire house for Christmas until the glow from all the lights chased all the Blibbering Humdingers away. They would sing Christmas carols at the top of their lungs, and dance around putting up baubles until every wall and every table was covered with Christmas cheer.

But they always saved the best for last. They didn't bring a Christmas tree into the house, because if trees belonged inside they would grow inside, but there were two crab apple trees standing on either side of their front door that they decorated. But they didn't use _regular_ decorations for the crab apple trees. They used all the decorations that Luna's mummy had made – intricate reindeer made with a spell that manipulated glass, Santas that laughed one after the other to the tune of "Carol of the Bells", tinsel that turned into snowflakes at night, and little angels and snowmen made out of glued together Bertie Bott's.

Luna wondered if her daddy decorated without her. She hoped he did. _He_ shouldn't be sad just because she wasn't there. _She_ was going to do her best to have a _great_ Christmas, whenever it was. She would pretend the darkness was just because it was nighttime. It was cold only because it was snowing. She wasn't at home because Ollivander needed her more than her daddy did, even if he was sleeping right now.

There was a cackle, and the door to the cellar opened to show Bellatrix Lestrange, carrying some crusts of bread for them, which she dumped on the ground. "Merry Christmas!" She cackled some more. It didn't make her look very nice.

Luna knew the only reason Bellatrix would bring them food is so that she could practice her favorite curse on them. Luna hoped today wasn't actually Christmas, because she had a feeling that today was going to become her second least favorite day.


	9. Nine Ladies Dancing

Andromeda wanted Ted. They hadn't spent a Christmas apart since her seventh year at Hogwarts.

Andromeda had abandoned her family to be with Ted, and while she never _regretted_ her decision, it was difficult knowing that she no longer had a family – especially at Christmas. So Ted had always made sure to spend every Christmas with her, dragging her along to his family celebrations, even back when Andromeda was just-barely-nineteen and had no idea how to act around Muggles.

The Muggles noticed that she was strange, of course, but even the ones that didn't know about magic accepted her and congratulated the two of them on their marriage. (Although Ted's mother was a little put out that they had eloped instead of having a big ceremony, even though they had explained about Andromeda's family.)

And Andromeda couldn't help but compare Ted's big, happy family with hers. Ted's family accepted a new member who didn't know their traditions, who kept making odd mistakes, and who was much more uptight than them (Andromeda had tried to loosen up, but couldn't; maybe it was natural, or maybe eighteen years of living with her family had left their mark).

Andromeda's family ( _former_ family), on the other hand, would _never_ accept a stranger who made mistakes. They didn't even accept it when one of their own made mistakes! Andromeda vividly remembered when a just-turned-five year old Narcissa had missed a step in the traditional Christmas dance the ladies always did. It was the first time Cissy had been allowed to join the others, and she had tripped over a ribbon that had come undone. The guests had gasped, and for the rest of the evening, every conversation Andromeda overheard was about how embarrassing it was for her family that Narcissa had messed up the dance.

Her parents had made their displeasure with Narcissa obvious, sending her home from the party early (which may have been a mercy, considering what people were saying about her) and letting everyone know how severely she would be punished.

But when Ted's family started to dance, nobody got it perfect, and while people laughed at each other, it was all in good fun. Andromeda had never felt more welcomed.

Ted, Andromeda, and Nymphadora had been invited to Ted's parents' again this year. Bill Weasley had put wards up all around all of Ted's relatives homes, although none of them knew, except for Ted's parents, who had been told everything about the War. Because Andromeda knew that Bellatrix would want to hurt her in any way she could.

But being in massive danger didn't stop Ted's parents from hosting a massive Christmas party same as every year.

Andromeda wasn't going without Ted.

The party was about to start, but Ted wasn't home. Steeling herself, Andromeda picked up the phone and dialed Ted's parents.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Tonks. It's Andromeda."

"Oh, Andromeda, dear! How is everything?"

"Not that great – Ted isn't here."

There was silence on the line. Ted's parents knew that Ted was on the run, but Andromeda wasn't sure if they understood just how important it was that he stay hidden.

"Well, that's . . . good, right?"

Andromeda nodded, even though Mrs. Tonks couldn't see it. "It is good – it means he's staying safe." If he wasn't already dead. "But I don't think I can make it to the party tonight."

"No worries, dear. You just take care of yourself. Tell Nymphadora and her husband – and their baby – Merry Christmas from us. And you feel free to call if you need anything, understand?"

"Thank you, Mrs. Tonks. Merry Christmas."

"You're not alone, dear."

She felt alone, though. She had Nymphadora and Remus, and she knew Ted's parents would do anything for her, but she just wanted Ted. She just wanted to know he was safe. She wanted him to _come home_.


	10. Ten Lords a-Leaping

She was home, technically. It didn't feel like home.

Narcissa wanted Malfoy Manor to be the way it used to be, back before the Dark Lord had turned it into _this_. Dank, gloomy, and depressing. She wanted her family to be the way it used to be, back before Lucius flinched at every noise and Draco looked like he never slept.

She wanted it to feel like _Christmas_ , with her family together and happy. She didn't want to have _prisoners_ in the cellar. She didn't want to have her former friends (and her _sister_ – how could you, Bella?) laugh at her husband and son.

She wanted the Dark Lord _dead_. She wanted him to die slowly and painfully, and she wanted to do it herself. She wanted to tear out his fingernails, then his toenails, and then break every bone in his body. One. By. One. She wanted to _Crucio_ him until he begged for mercy, and she wanted to _Incendio_ his liver, letting the fire grow until he was just a burnt husk. She wanted to lock him in a room full of dementors who wouldn't follow his orders. She wanted to lock him in a room full of boggarts – there must be _something_ he's afraid of (she amused herself briefly by imagining fifteen boggart-Harry Potters taunting the Dark Lord).

She wanted him dead.

Narcissa glanced around furtively, hoping nobody had been close enough to even get a _hint_ of what she was thinking.

Nobody was there – and that was the problem. It was Christmas – she, Lucius, and Draco _always_ spent it together. Sometimes they had stayed at the Manor, and sometimes they had gone to parties or dances, but they had always spent Christmas _together_. But Lucius was avoiding his wife and son, and Draco was avoiding _everyone_.

It wasn't _right_. She wanted to spend the day with her family. She wanted Malfoy Manor to feel like _home_ again.


	11. Eleven Pipers Piping

Percy didn't feel like he belonged (and wasn't that the story of his life). The Ministry was having a Holiday Party, probably to let everyone pretend for an evening that the Ministry wasn't actually being controlled by You-Know-Who. And _obviously_ Percy was attending, because he was a good little worker.

He'd probably had too much to drink. The orchestra had started sounding more and more shrill to Percy as the evening wore on, until Percy would have sworn the music was being made by pipers who hadn't practiced in years.

And Percy was usually able to forget the mess the Ministry had become, or at least push it to the back of his mind. But he had been drinking too much, and he wasn't able to ignore it anymore: You-Know-Who had taken over, and Percy was too in love with power to have done anything about it.

What type of person was he? How could he have pretended that everything was okay – that the Ministry wasn't a thin front for You-Know-Who's agenda?

He had been raised as a Weasley, even if his entire family (except his mum, who had sent him a jumper again this year) couldn't stand him now. So how could he have _ever_ thought that becoming Minister (which had been his ultimate goal) was more important than opposing You-Know-Who? How could he have abandoned his _family_ to prove that he could do it without them? Maybe he _could_ do it without them (although he was feeling more and more like he couldn't), but he shouldn't _want_ to.

It might be too late now, anyway. Percy had never felt very included in his family, even before he left. Bill and Charlie paired up, and Fred and George, and Ron and Ginny. Sometimes Ginny played with Fred and George, and _then_ Ron would spend time with Percy. But spending time with _Ron_ , of all people, now that Percy had sided with the Ministry against Ron's best friend, and now that Ron was a hero, was laughable.

Percy's entire family were heroes, and what was he? Ministry lapdog.

The shrill sound from the orchestra was bloody annoying, and Percy wanted to get out. He wanted to go home.

Percy wasn't sure his family would accept him back. He could still remember last year, when he had left the Burrow covered in mashed parsnip. He probably shouldn't have shown up with the Minister in tow, especially since the Minister only came so he could talk to Harry.

It had still been nice, to see that everyone was fine.

But he had heard plenty about what happened to his family since then. Ron had been poisoned and almost died, Bill had been attacked by Greyback and almost died, Bill's wedding to the Beauxbatons Triwizard Champion had been raided, Ron had Spattergroit (Percy didn't even let himself _think_ about how convenient _that_ story was), Ginny was at Hogwarts with Death Eaters teaching her the Dark Arts – Percy was scared for them. He was scared for his dad, who still came to the Ministry every day for work even though he had _never_ been shy about his opinions on Muggles. He was scared for Fred and George, who were running a business that regularly taunted You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters.

Percy wasn't scared for himself, because what had he done that the Ministry or You-Know-Who would disapprove of?

Maybe he should change that.

He could start by going home. He knew his mum, at least, would take him back. He could deal with the rest – as much as he had pretended not to care for the past few years, he loved them.

Glad that he was about to get away from the screeching orchestra, Percy smiled as he turned to the nearest Floo.

Then he saw Dolores Umbridge, smiling sweetly at him from directly in front of the Floo. Percy froze. Of course. Of _course_ he was being watched. They weren't just going to let him leave.

Percy mustered a smile, hoping it looked genuine, and calmly walked towards her as if that had been his intention all along. "Merry Christmas, Madam Umbridge. It's a lovely party, don't you agree?"

Umbridge tittered. "It's lovely, yes. But I wonder if some people here would rather be with their families on Christmas?"

Percy forced out a friendly laugh. "I'm sure some would. But that's why this is being held in the evening, isn't it? So people could spend the morning with their families, and celebrate all the good the Ministry has been doing in the evening."

Percy felt sick. Had he actually believed all this just yesterday? Was having a little too much to drink _really_ the only thing that could have made him stop ignoring the truth?

Umbridge nodded, suddenly turning towards him with her flabby face and bulging eyes. "I notice your father isn't here tonight. I don't suppose you know where he is?"

Percy shrugged. "I don't know and I don't really care. He's never had proper Wizarding pride." And then realizing he might have just made things worse for his family, Percy added, "Although I think even _he_ can see that the new direction the Ministry has taken is necessary."

Umbridge smiled, her toady lips stretching gruesomely. "Lovely. You'll go far with that attitude, Percy. Now, I see Minister Thicknesse over there, and I must really talk to him about some new methods for finding Undesirables."

Umbridge waddled off, and Percy tried not to let his sigh of relief be too obvious. He hated her. He couldn't believe he had once told Ron to trust her. Luckily Ron was smarter than Percy.

Percy glanced around again. There were several of Umbridge's toadies standing around, pretending not to be watching the Floos. They might let him leave, but he would never be able to come back. He needed to think this through before doing anything – even if that meant not making it home for Christmas.

He'd figure out a way to get back to his family. He should have done it _years_ ago, back when it was still easy. _Now_ it was going to take planning and ingenuity.

Percy might not be making it home in time for Christmas, but he was on his way.


	12. Twelve Drummers Drumming

"The Little Drummer Boy" was playing on the radio. It seemed oddly appropriate. Even Dudley had noticed how magical people looked to Harry as a Savior.

Dudley's dad had insisted that Hestia and Dedalus stop listening to "that blasted radio," which played static as often as not. Hestia and Dedalus never listed to his dad, but today they had compromised and stopped trying to find _Potterwatch_ , instead tuning into a station that was playing some witch singer.

" _Everyone_ listens to Celestina at Christmas," Hestia had said.

But it didn't feel much like Christmas. Dudley's parents hadn't been able to leave the safe house for long, and _never_ without Dedalus or Hestia, so they had only gotten him a few presents.

Dudley didn't care about the _presents_ really (he actually thought his parents might be more upset than him about how few there were). But it was a symptom of the bigger problem – they were in hiding. Wizards were hunting them.

And they weren't at home.

Dudley just wanted to go home. Privet Drive wasn't perfect, but all his friends were there, and his family had been happy there. He missed all the lights and decorations on all the houses – Christmas was the one time of year when the houses didn't all look the same.

Dudley thought of Christmases past – Harry hadn't been home for Christmas in years, and Dudley had always had a good time with his parents. Now he wished Harry _were_ here, and that all of them could have a Christmas celebration together.

But that wasn't going to happen. Dudley's parents had tried to give him a good Christmas, but had hidden themselves away once the blatant _Magic-ness_ of most of Celestina's songs had become too much. So Dudley was left sitting with Dedalus and Hestia, with nobody talking, listening to Celestina.

The song changed. This one seemed oddly appropriate as well.

_I'll be home for Christmas_   
_You can plan on me_   
_Please have snow and mistletoe_   
_And presents on the tree_

_Christmas Eve will find me_   
_Where my Patronus gleams_   
_I'll be home for Christmas_   
_If only in my dreams_


End file.
